


overcast

by softsawyer



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, F/F, character introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 03:49:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20575976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softsawyer/pseuds/softsawyer
Summary: Maggie has categorized the different ways Alex looks at her.-OrMaggie’s thoughts about Alex, their relationship, herself, and their future.





	overcast

Maggie has categorized the different ways Alex looks at her. 

-

There’s the tentative hopeful look accompanied by that twist of the mouth she does, the duck of her chin, and her eyes peering up at Maggie softly. It’s one of Maggie’s favorites because Alex Danvers is a badass, she can go toe to toe with Supergirl in the DEO training room and yet for some bizarre reason Maggie can elicit that bashful, rambling part of her. She knows that Alex doesn’t like that she can bring that part of her out (she’s so proud, too proud sometimes). She’d complained about it to her after a particularly blush filled, meandering tangent that started off with inviting her to Midvale on their weekend off and petered out at explaining the way squid contribute to the ocean’s ecosystem.

“God, I feel like a teenager with her first crush, you’re my girlfriend, we’ve been dating for 6 months. I should be able to properly invite you to a weekend getaway in my hometown without,” she’d made a vague gesture of her hand, a pout painting her lips, “that happening. And why are smiling at me like that Maggie? Stop it.”

Maggie had kissed the pout off her face, still smiling while doing so.

She knows why Alex doesn’t like what Maggie can do to her. Alex is a leader, a person who thrives on control over others and herself. The stuttering blushing is the antithesis of control; it’s a nervous stomach, fidgeting hands, a warmth creeping up her neck. It’s involuntarily and to someone like Alex, foreign and frightening. Maggie understands this, she likes to be in control just as much as Alex does, but the difference is control over herself is enough—she doesn’t need to control her environment or others around her. 

-

There’s the impossibly earnest, slightly sad look she gives when talking about wanting to help Maggie heal; it’s made of warm nights by the fire with her family, laughter, happiness, home. When Alex looks at her like that, she wants to wrap herself in her gaze, in the effusive sense of rightness she feels. 

Maggie just wishes that Alex would let her help her too.

Sometimes she thinks Alex needs to spend more time looking inward, learning about herself. She understands why she hasn’t—meeting the high expectations of her mother, raising Kara growing up, and then protecting the world doesn’t leave much time for introspection—but at some point explanations become excuses. Maggie is different. She’d spent plenty of time examining herself, in the quiet moments sitting in her room with the sound of her aunt’s favorite television show drifting in from the living room. She’d stare up at her cracked, yellowing popcorn ceiling and examine the different parts of herself that made up Maggie Sawyer. 

She’d took what she needed, things that could be of use to her or others, and neatly sealed away what she didn’t (the anger and pain, the self destructive habits, the yawning black abyss that threatened to overwhelm her on particularly bad days, the scared, stupid fourteen-year-old girl who hadn't realized her father was abandoning her until he drove out of her aunt’s driveway, dust blown up by the wheels of his car making Maggie’s eyes smart and her throat dry). She’d tucked those away in her black box and buried it in the small, quiet place she’s never shown anyone. She’d built walls, a castle with towering ramparts and spears jutting out from the walls, to keep anyone from it. She’d did it to protect herself back then, but now she realizes while it is the reason she survived long enough to leave Blue Springs behind, it hurts her now more than it helps. 

Even Maggie can’t get through the defenses she built. It’s stupid, she’s the architect; she knows every brick in every wall, but trying to bring them down is like twisting a knife into an open wound while pouring acid over it. It hurts. It hurts too much, more than she can handle. She’s so weak and she hates herself for it, but at least she is completely aware of the dark places in her, of her failings and strengths. Alex still isn’t. Sure she knows her strengths, but she doesn’t like to dwell on her weakness, her darkness; it scares her, Maggie thinks.

But Maggie wants to help Alex accept every part of herself, it’s only fair since Alex is helping Maggie heal, open up more, she’s not tearing down the walls, she’s patiently building a door. She knows a relationship is more than a transaction, but she wants to help Alex too because Alex has done so much for her, more than she knows. 

-

And then. There’s that look. The quiet stare Alex will give her when she thinks she not looking, when she’s pouring over case files at the table and Alex is watching Netflix and stops to look at her. The stare she sees when she cracks her eyes open at an ungodly hour and turns her head to see Alex staring at her. She looks at her like every romantic cliche Maggie’s heard. Like she hangs the stars and the moon. Like she’s the reason the sun rises and sets each day. Like she’s an ocean and she’s drowning. And Maggie? Maggie hates it. And then she hates herself for hating it and being so ungrateful. Her girlfriend loves her and sees the entire universe when she looks at her why can’t she just be fucking normal and appreciate that? 

Maggie wishes she could be the person Alex thinks she is so she wouldn’t feel disingenuous whenever Alex gives her _ that _look, but she isn’t. When she sees that particular gaze, she feels like a fraud, a kid hiding cookies under their shirt and hoping the adults don’t notice. It makes her skin crawl.

She hates it. 

She isn’t anything special. She’s not some hero. She tries to be good and do good but half the time she thinks it doesn’t work. She’s just a cop. She doesn’t deserve someone like Alex, she doesn’t deserve the way she looks at her. But she can’t tell Alex any of this because it’s so fucking stupid. She knows Alex can’t help the way she looks at her and she knows Alex would think the look would give her comfort and it should, it _ should. _

Maggie doesn’t know what’s wrong with her, she wishes she did. 

She won’t unload her baggage on Alex though. She only wants to give Alex sunny mornings filled with coffee and pancakes. Big cliche romantic moments complete with cheesy music playing in the background. She wants to fill her life with the happiness and love and intimacy she was so starved of. Alex doesn’t deserve the ugly parts of Maggie, the scars, the wounds scabbed over her heart. So Maggie keeps those parts of herself private. She hopes it’s enough for Alex, enough for her to stay. She knows Alex deserves better than her, but she’s fucking selfish and she doesn’t want Alex to realize that—a voice in her head says she will soon enough and when she does she’ll leave her like everybody else and sure she’ll be sad when she breaks up with her, but secretly afterward she’ll feel lighter and realize she’s better off without her (the voice sounds a lot like her father’s). 

The worst part is that if that ever comes to pass, Maggie isn’t sure whether she has it in her to fight for her to stay. Why would she when she knows Alex deserves better? She’d be doing her a favor by making a clean break. She’s her first real relationship, and she’d be her first real breakup too. The least she could do is make it as easy as possible to get over. Maybe she’d ask her captain for an overseas assignment, just leave the country entirely. 

But that day isn’t here yet, and maybe it never will be. Maybe she’s just psyching herself out, preparing for the worst case scenario so if it does happen, she won’t be completely shattered. Maybe a few years down the road they’ll be married and fighting over who gets to take the dog out at 5 AM for a bathroom break. That idyllic future she’d dared to imagine in her head as a young, stupid teenager—a wife, a family that loved and accepted her, a big fluffy dog to complete the picture—could still be in reach.

Maggie just hopes that Alex wants the same thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, yes, I’m posting a story (on my own). Before you ask, yes YTBF is still languishing in purgatory, sorry :(
> 
> We bit off way more than we could chew and the chapters just kept getting longer. I made a little thread on my twitter (@circledflight) about it, but idk if any of you on here saw it. Basically, our motivation to finish that behemoth of a story is pretty low. We’re both fully adulting now and our interests have shifted somewhat. Mikaela keeps insisting we’ll finish it eventually lol, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up. 
> 
> We do appreciate every comment, kudos, and bookmark. It was a great journey with all of you, and sanvers totally did end up together in the end.
> 
> Anyways, onto this story. It’s been sitting in my google docs for like 2 years now and I only remembered it existed bc I was cleaning out my google drive. I figured I might as well post it so I edited it a bit and here we are. I didn’t change too much except for adding the last two paragraphs. I still love Maggie and trying to get into her head so this was fun to go back and edit.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!


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